Bitter
by Kat Doll
Summary: Helga was a cracked shell, long before Arnold came along.
1. Say Goodbye to Girlhood

**Disclaimer:** Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett and company. I do not earn any profits from this story.

**Summary:** Helga was a cracked shell, long before Arnold came along.

**Author's Note:** This story underwent a complete makeover. If anyone had read the first two chapters, you might want to re-read the revised versions. Hope you enjoy. Also, welcome to anybody just now reading this story for the first time.

* * *

**Bitter**

**Chapter One: Say Goodbye to Girlhood**

Helga stared despondently at her computer screen, toiling over the manuscript that was due in less than ten days. The scholarship committee wanted it to at least be seventeen-thousand words, summing up the entirety of her high-school experience. When Helga first took on this assignment, she thought she had it all down pat. What she hadn't counted on, was that others would be reading her story and making judgments of her life. If she had been any other girl, the kind that didn't skip class to hang with boys, the kind that always did her parents proud, she wouldn't be in this dilemma. She could revisit her memories unashamed, and not have to fear the skeletons lying up in her closet.

Sighing dolefully, Helga began to close her laptop, when a sudden creaking of her door alerted her. Swiveling around in her chair, Helga groaned inwardly at the sight of the auburn-haired girl.

"Lila, I thought I said not to bug me."

Lila, chipper as always strolled into the room, balancing a plate covered with aluminum foil in her upraised palm.

"I know, but you have worked so hard. I thought I'd bring you some homemade chocolate-chip cookies to cheer you up."

Could she be anymore Stepford? Helga thought irritably.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't eat sweets anymore!" Reaching over she swiped the plate from Lila and greedily tore through the aluminum.

Lila smiled pleased with herself, watching as Helga scarfed down all the cookies, and even went as far as to lick the crumbs off the plate. Lila's been hanging out with the girl long enough to know how her mind worked. Helga often spoke her feelings in code. If she said she hated something; that really meant that she loved it. Complicated, but that was just Helga for you.

"How's the story going by the way?"

"It's going nowhere; I'm still stuck on the first paragraph," Helga said, getting up to dispose of the empty plate.

Lila took her place on the chair, and opened up the laptop. She read the beginning sentence out loud. "My name is Helga G. Pataki. Like most young girls, I made a lot of mistakes. The biggest one of all being Arn-"

"Please, don't read anymore," Helga said, placing her hand over the rest of the text.

"I think it's good that you decided to write about him. I could never, not after everything that happened between you two." Lila placed her hand on the girl's forearm, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"You think this is a good thing?" Helga sneered, eyes clouded with emotion. "I thought it would be therapeutic. But all it did was scare the crap out of me. I'm afraid that if I write about my high-school experience, his name will come up, and I'll be reliving my nightmare all over again."

"Helga, I've made a lot of mistakes too," said Lila, her cheeks burning as she remembered some of her most recent activities. Unlike Helga, Lila's skeletons were in full view all over the internet, and there was never any way she could take that back.

"But, here's a chance to start fresh, and getting that scholarship is the first way to do it."

They had long ago decided that it was in their best choice to go to Women's Art and Literature College. The school was aptly named, and only allowed women to apply there. By pure luck, Lila had stumbled upon the school's brochure add, and seeing the smartly dressed women and their proud, untroubled smiles brought such a good feeling in her heart. This was a perfect school for her and Helga to attend, no boys to steer them from their goals, and it had some of the best art and literature programs.

Lila had already sent in her application. She had an outstanding S.A.T score and lots of community service backing her, plus she was eligible for financial aid since she lived in a single parent household. Helga however, didn't have good enough grades to apply for financial aid, and this scholarship was her only ticket to getting in.

"Enough with the cliques, Lila, I don't need you to tell me what I already know." Seeing her friend's crestfallen expression, she softened up her tone. "Do you have suggestions about my story? Maybe that would help."

Lila immediately brightened, "Well, if I'm being quite honest, I thought the first sentence had lots of potential." Seeing the wearied look on her friend's face she quickly explained, "I know you have reservations about including Arnold in the story, but if you think about it, the story would be lifeless if you didn't."

Helga nodded, "Looking back, I think I'm now starting to realize that Arnold was the center of my mistakes. All the craziness branched from him somehow, and even when I thought it wasn't about him, it really was. I'm obsessive, aren't I?"

Lila gasped, and pointed at Helga. "Repeat what you just said!"

"I said, looking back-"

Jumping up, Lila eagerly sat Helga down in the chair, her excitement startling the blonde. "Don't you see Helga, that's you're second paragraph!"

Helga paused, an incredulous smile growing on her face. "So those bouts of poetic monologues really did come in handy."

"Poetic monologues?"

"Never mind that, I got a story to write." Inspiration flooded her, lighting up the dreary place that had once been her soul. She felt innervated, and the hope emitting off of her was almost palpable. Maybe she could finish this story after all.

Aligning her fingers to the keyboard, Helga began to type. She typed long after Lila left, long after the sun began to set, and a canopy of darkness covered the city that was Hillwood.

* * *

_My name is Helga G. Pataki. Like most young girls, I made a lot of mistakes, the biggest one of all being Arnold S_. I say Arnold S_, because the love I hold for him is a secret one, and I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way._

_Looking back, I think I'm now starting to realize that Arnold was the center of my mistakes. All the craziness branched from him somehow, and even when I thought it wasn't about him, it really was. I'm obsessive, aren't I?_

_I've got countless stories about high school. I've got countless stories about him; I can't tell you that their pretty, because they're not. In fact, this story should really be called the "Don't Do What I Did" story. But I think that "Ramifications of Helga" has a more poetic ring, don't you think? It seems like my life has been nothing but consequences as of late. _

_One of my biggest downfalls had to have been my little drunken stunt with a certain blond-haired boy. It's why I've spent my last days of high school hiding out in the girl's restroom. I thought I was a pariah then, but nothing could have ready me for the backlash I received for canoodling with the star of the volleyball team's boyfriend. _

_I remember thinking, there's no holding back this time. Any flashes of uncertainty had drained away the second we connected. I poured everything into that one kiss, unbelieving of the luck that had fallen into my hands. You can only imagine how encompassing that feeling was. I ran my hands meticulously through his hair, watching as his gorgeous cornflower locks spilt between my fingers. He looked at me, poring over my visage with bright, verdant green eyes. I felt like he was mapping out my soul in that one look. _

_We were lost in the tumults of our passion. The smell of his damp skin intoxicated me; his look of pure veneration consumed me. So overcome by the feelings that had long been unreciprocated, I was oblivious to everything around us; including the sight of Melanie's shadowed figure standing frozen by the door, her face stricken and pale as marble. _

_"How could you?" Her voice, so powerful and real, hit us like a bucket of ice-cold water._

_Arnold jumped off me in a flash, his face twisted with gut-wrenching guilt. _

_She left us there in the dark, our bodies shaking in the aftermath. I could still hear the cries of our passion. It echoed around us, loud and shameful, blocking out the music blaring behind the door._

_I licked my lips, catching the bitter twang of booze before it disappeared, like this moment would._

_Moving on to three years earlier, those were just the beginning days of my self-destruction. I had already been a train wreck all throughout elementary and junior high, but oh, freshman year…They had a name for me back then. _

* * *

(Three Years Earlier)

"See you later, Wacky-Pataki!"

Helga remained in her seat as students began to clear out of the auditorium. She had her feet prompted up on the seat in front of her, arms folded behind her head. Her eyes flitted over to the boy who had said the comment, Harold Berman. Him and his gaggle of friends laughed derisively as they passed her chair, one even going as far as to throw a crumpled ball of paper at her head. She sneered at their football team jerseys with contempt. Picking up the crumbled ball she lobbed it back at the boy who threw it.

He dodged it with a sly smile, "Better luck next time, Wacky."

Once everyone had departed, Helga let her mind finally fly away from her. She imagined herself being far away, just like Dr. Bliss had taught her long ago. She missed her old psychologist, and wondered what became of her. Was she counseling another angry blonde girl?

"Riveting wasn't it?"

"Huh?" Helga looked up, startled to find Lila Sawyer standing over her. She blinked dubiously for a few moments, having not been aware of Lila's existence up until now. After the PS 118 crowd parted ways, many of Helga's classmates had matriculated to different schools around the city, Lila being one of them. Helga had heard that the girl was going to Hillwood High now, but it was like trying to spot a needle in a hay stack. Those rare times she bothered to look up in the halls, she thought she might have seen the lone figure meandering through the halls. It was as if Lila had the uncanny ability to disappear, nobody knew her anymore, or cared to know her.

"I just enjoyed Mr. Kinsley's presentation on school bullying, ever so much. What are your opinions of it?"

Helga stared enviously at the girl's perfect visage. She was wholesomely dressed, and still wore her hair in pigtails. To symbolize her innocence some more, the clouds behind the picturesque windows parted, and a wave of golden sunlight filtered the auditorium, illuminating the top of her auburn mane like a halo.

Lila shifted awkwardly when Helga didn't answer. Her heart sunk slightly. She didn't want to spend the rest of high school being without friends. She had thought that because they were both friendless, Helga would warm to the idea of her, but it seemed she was wrong.

"Look, Helga, I know you don't like me but…Do you mind if I sit here?"

Helga scowled, weighing her options. Lila was a social leper just like Helga, but for different reasons. None of the girls liked her because she was too innocent, and boring. The spiteful part of her wanted to tell Lila to go back where she came from, to not cross the line that separated them.

"Sure, why not. It's a free country," Helga said, gesturing to the seat beside her.

The other part of her was a sad and lonely girl.

* * *

Fast forwarding to when Helga was fourteen. She was the angriest she'd ever been. Lila, already influenced, did nothing to stop the ticking time bomb. Together the two girls already cultivated their own little group. They weren't the pariah and ghost anymore but simply Lila and Helga. Well, there were still some people who called Helga, Wacky Pataki, but only when she wasn't in hearing distance.

"Move it, bucko, I'm walking here!" Helga said, shoving her way between two elderly women on the sidewalk. Lila gave them an apologetic smile before traipsing after her friend. They randomly entered a small little boutique on the edge of town. Helga snorted at every item in the store, shaking her head at Lila who held up a big sun hat with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Oh, these are cute." Lila led Helga over to the lingerie section. She browsed through the hangers of bras, picking one out and holding it to her chest.

Helga looked around wearily, "I don't think this is for girls our age, Lila."

"You're probably right. None of these fit me anyway." Sighing wistfully she put the bra back.

Helga snorted, "Hey look, they sell sling shots here!" Helga bent over, and picked up a thong off one of the tables with her forefinger. It was hot pink, and trimmed with lace. She stretched it, and then smacked Lila across the cheek with it, guffawing loudly at the mortified expression on her face.

A salesclerk woman made a beeline over to Helga, snatching the flimsy garment from her. "This is not a toy store, Missy," she said, peering down her nose at Helga.

"Well, duh! I already know that."

The woman smirked covertly, "This isn't a suitable place for a girl you're age anyway. How about Little Kiddies across the street, I hear their training bras are on sale."

Lila gasped, her cheeks turning several shades of scarlet.

Helga snatched the garment back, glaring brazenly at the woman. "Come on, Lila, the service here stinks."

"Aren't you going to pay for that, Little Missy?"

Helga stomped off, throwing the money at the cashier before exiting out the stop.

When she got home, she ensconced the skimpy underwear into an old gym sock, and stuffed it into the very back of her dresser. The next couple of days she forced herself to forget the purchase.

One morning while getting ready for school, Helga was fumbling through her sock drawer, when a thought flitted across her mind. Feeling silly, she got out the old gym sock where her purchase was hidden away. Pulling the underwear from its confines, she stared wearily at it, wondering again why she bought it in the first place. Oh, to prove that stupid woman wrong.

Nobody will know, Helga thought. She walked stiffly to the bus top, feeling naked and embarrassed. After today she was going back to regular underwear.

That afternoon, while in her biology class, Helga had this strange, pressing feeling that someone was watching her. She twisted around in her seat just in time to catch Arnold duck his head, his face turning puce. Phoebe, seated two seats behind him was blushing too, and pointed a finger towards the lower part of Helga's back, where her shirt had ridden up. Helga quickly lowered her shirt, but not before catching his eyes moving back to the spot where they had been ten seconds ago.

A week later, she went to the same lingerie shop and asked for a matching bra. By the tenth time she visited the store, the salesclerk woman smiled deferentially at her, asking if she needed any help.

* * *

**Another Note: **Any parts written in italics is supposed to be the story that Helga is writing.


	2. Green

**Disclaimer:** Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett and company. I do not earn any profits from this story.

**Summary:** Helga was a cracked shell, long before Arnold came along.

**Author's Note:** This chapter came out short, because of all the editing.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Green**

_Using Kyle's credit card was like a dose of adrenaline to the system. I became addicted to the calm, relaxed feeling that trickled over me when roaming the isle of a nicely stocked store, all of Bob's hateful words slipping away from my consciousness with every purchase. Shopping was way better than drinking my sorrows away, only to wake up with some pamphlet from Miriam's A.A meetings tucked beneath my pillow._

_It was only afterward, when I looked into the mirror, and hated what I saw. It was afterward, when Olga would pull me into these giant bear hugs—calling me her, 'Darling baby sister' that this imperceptible feeling of doubt came over me._

_Sometimes I used to think about suicide, but was too much of a masochist to really complete the deal._

* * *

"Oh I don't know Helga. It's an awfully pretty dress, but a bit to risqué for my taste," said Lila, as she watched Helga model the haltered silver dress in front of the mirror. It was backless and perfectly tailored showing off the slopes of her waist, the hem falling just below her thigh. The light from the ceiling kissed the myriad of sparkles on her dress, making them twinkle radiantly again her skin.

Helga, now seventeen, blossomed over the years. It was both a scary and beautiful thing to watch. "Look who's talking. I'm wearing more than you!"

Lila had put on the first thing that caught her eye; it was a velvet red mini-dress, with a sweetheart neckline. "Yes, but I would never in a million years wear something like this in public," Lila chuckled. She threw her reflection a promiscuous look, her lips puckered out like the models taped to the dressing rooms. They were all so beautiful, so careless of their sexuality, and so very unlike her. It almost made her want to cry.

Lila watched on silently as Helga pivoted slowly in front of the mirror, humming appreciatively at her slender figure. She had become one of the closest people in her life. They were _soul _sisters. But underneath the layers of friendship, appeared vestiges of envy. The feeling was short-lived though, and was soon replaced with veneration. She was in awe with how brazen Helga could be; the way her cerulean-blue eyes became incandescent with possibility, the way she marched down the halls, her gorgeous blonde hair whipping behind her like superman's cape. Where Lila came from, parents taught their daughters modesty, to have their knees caps locked, and heads bowed to the floor.

"I can't wait to see Olga's face. She'll be so embarrassed. Her in-laws already think I'm a hussy, just wait until they see me in this get-up." Helga curtsied, and said in a fake posh voice, "why hello, Mr. and Mrs. Grant, what's that, you like my dress? Why, thank you. But I would be remiss if I didn't thank your dear sweet son for paying for it."

"What, my son bought that dress for you? That does seem terribly inappropriate," said Lila in an equally posh voice, laughing weakly. It was more than just inappropriate. Helga and her sister's husband were having an affair. Lila had watched helplessly as the relationship developed.

On the outside Kyle was the perfect gentleman; rich, charismatic, and a dutiful husband to his doting wife. He had his future set out for him; a million dollar inheritance, and a line of businesses that his father had built from the ground up. No matter how perfect Kyle appeared, Lila saw the truth for what he really was. She had been there when Helga divulged into the beginning of the affair, from the moment he cornered her, to the events that took place afterward. It churned her stomach even more, holding this secret when Olga didn't even have a clue. The most frightening part of it all, Helga wasn't fazed by any of it. She took on all challenges in life with a malevolent glare, doing as she pleased, stealing hearts and breaking them. She was a monster too, in a way.

"Are you sure you don't want to get that dress?"

Lila shook her head, "I could never afford it." The word 'Poor' echoed in her mind.

"I'll buy it for you."

Lila raised an eyebrow, wondering if Helga meant with her money or Kyle's. "That's ever so sweet of you, but my father once told me that if you want something, you've got to work hard for it."

Helga frowned, thinking about the credit card burning a hole in her wallet. Her eyes flitted to Lila; she had switched into a different dress. This one was more modest, it was a black, over the shoulder gown. The auburn-haired girl continued posing in front of the mirror. She was like a little girl playing dress up, because her best friend was trying to become the real thing.

Sometimes Helga felt bitter that Lila had remained a virgin, and she hadn't. Lila was so puerile, her naive heart-shaped face making raunchy faces at the mirror, as if they were appealing. Helga wanted to grab the girl and shake her. She wanted to tell Lila how awful her first time was, and how many nights she spent crying over a married man. She wanted to list all the night's afterward, when she wondered if she could get pregnant and how messed up that would be. But something kept her mouth shut. And she felt a stab of guilt because of it.

"When did you say this dinner thing was again?" Lila asked, ignorant of Helga's deep-pondering. She slowly slid her hands up her waist, grabbing handfuls of her breasts. She shook them, laughing impishly, her voice blending in with the hum of customers outside the dressing room.

Helga noticed that the zipper stopped just at the middle of her back. She walked over to her friend, pulling the zip up in one last swoop.

"Tomorrow night at seven, do you still need a ride?"

* * *

Helga pushed her Gucci sunglasses over her eyes, head pounding as she squeezed her way through the crowded halls. She was wearing a metallic and vinyl, Marc Jacob's dress, and a sexy pair of Giuseppe Zanotti stiletto boots. After she and Lila fished for clothes at their favorite boutique, Helga had come back home to another showdown with Bob. The end results: Helga got drunk. Before the night was over, she had cursed out Phoebe over the phone, and accidentally called Arnold nine times. It wasn't a good morning.

Lila was having an exceptional morning. It all began with a text. Heart thumping in her chest, Lila checked to see who texted her. A loud squeal fell from her lips when she saw the name.

**To: Lila**

**Good morning, gorgeous. How are you this fine morning? **

**-Jason **

Lila couldn't wipe the smile from her face as she got ready for school. She quickly typed up her reply the second she got on the bus.

**To: Jason**

**I'm quite well, and yes, it is a fine morning. ; )**

**-Lila**

Lila was still beaming by the time she got to school. She was walking and texting at the same time, something that teachers had warned their students about. All it took was good eye coordination. However, the last text sent her almost falling into a heap on the floor.

**To: Lila**

**I would love to see what you look like underneath those school clothes.**

**-Jason. **

Lila's mind was reeling. She was slow to respond, frivolously thinking of ways in which she could respond without seeming too puerile. She wanted to impress her new friend.

**To: Lila**

**I'm sorry. Was that too much? I can't help it. You're just so beautiful. Is it wrong that I think about you naked all the time?**

**-Jason (A little more anxious than before)**

Lila glanced at the clock, her class wasn't about to start in another five minutes.

**To: Jason**

**Don't be anxious. Give me one second?**

**-Lila**

Lila's heart was pounding as she pushed her way through the throng of students, and into the girl's bathroom. To her luck it was empty. She couldn't believe what she was about to do.

It was only three months ago, when Lila was first introduced to Jason. She met him on a social networking site called Quick-Friends. He was a charming guy that always had nice things to say about her pictures. It brought butterflies to her stomach every time she read how beautiful she was.

Lila took a deep breath, and pushed her way into one of the stalls. She peeled off her sweater, goose-bumps crawling up her arms. When she unhooked her bra, letting it fall into a pile on the tile floor, she got her phone out, and switched it to camera mode.

"Well, here goes nothing."

After a few clicks, the light casting the tiled walls in an ethereal glow, two voices emerged from the door. Lila squeaked, nearly dropping her cell phone in the toilet. She hastily picked up her clothes, flattening them against her chest.

"I can't believe my brother's stupid enough to throw another party. That last one got us grounded for a month!"

"Do you think you can score Arnold and I some invites?"

Lila peered into the crack and saw Melanie James, Arnold's girlfriend, stroll past with her gaggle of friends; Tara, Jessica and Samantha. They lined up at the sink, putting on a fresh coat of lip gloss.

"Of course, it's my house too. Brian's just glad I'm not going to rat him out," said Tara, a mousy girl with a large beak-like nose.

Melanie nodded, happy with the response. She had gotten out a brush from her bag, and was idly smoothing down her fly away hairs. She was a really cute girl with deep taupe eyes, and curly red tresses.

Helga and Lila treated Melanie amicably, as a way for Helga to get free access to Arnold. But deep down, Helga vehemently despised the girl. She thought she was too much of goody-two shoes, despite the fact that her best friend was one. Lila although ambivalent, mostly thought Melanie was a kind and avuncular person. She was a tad bit of a tom-boy, but was still cautious of her appearance. Worldly and cultivated, Melanie enjoyed reading books about Voltaire and Chaucer, going mountain-rock climbing with her father every summer, and eating her sushi perfectly with chopsticks-something that annoyed Helga to no end.

"Well, I better head off to class. Can't afford another lateness," said Tara, turning to leave. Samantha and Jessica began to follow.

"Mel, are you coming?"

Mel shook her head silently, waving goodbye as her friends exited the room.

Lila stuffed her face into her clothes, trying desperately to stay quiet. Her phone buzzed again, surprising her. She yelped, banging her head on the door.

Melanie's eyes narrowed, eying the door suspiciously for a few seconds before moving back to face the mirror. When the late bell rung, she hurriedly gathered her things and exited out the bathroom.

Lila sagged in relief. She checked her phone, seeing five worried messages from Jason. Breathing shakily, she selected each of her photos and pressed the send button. I'm not so innocent now, she thought.


	3. A Gentleman's Game

**Disclaimer:** Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett and company. I do not earn any profits from this story.

**Summary:** Helga was a cracked shell, long before Arnold came along.

* * *

**Chapter Three: A Gentleman's Game**

_Insanity is something that is extremely foolish. It means doing the same crap over and over, even when you know what the ramifications are. An insane person doesn't know when to quit, or maybe he does know, but is too far gone. I was too far gone..._

_When it came to Kyle, I had premeditated everything. I saw the results of my actions so clearly in my head. If Olga knew, this would shatter her. Bob would scream at me, Miriam would ask me to attend one of her A.A meetings. That was her answer for everything these days. Kyle, I already what he would do. He'd say something stupid like, let's run away together. As if he had that choice to make._

_So you see, I knew what was at stake. But here's the thing, and you probably will hate me after you read this._

_I didn't give a crap about anyone's feelings, but my own. The only thing I knew back then, was that I was sad, and because of that sadness I became horribly misguided. I was also destructive, obsessed, combative, but most of all heartbroken. I would love to say it was all Arnold S_'s fault, but it runs so deeply then that. I had a cracked shell, long before Arnold came along._

* * *

Family dinners at the Grant's were always mundane. That was until the Pataki's showed up. Dr. Kyle Grant tuned out the discourse between his father and Mr. Wickerson the moment a bell sounded at the door. He gripped his silverware, knee jerking underneath the table. His excitement was almost palpable.

Olga squeezed his hand, giving him a soft peck on the cheek. "I'm so glad they came. They're usually not this late."

She probably thought he was nervous about meeting her family again. While he didn't mind Miriam, Bob was unremitting when it came to pitching a sale. The man could spiel for hours.

"I'd expect nothing less from those people," sneered his mother. She never failed to mention to Olga or anyone else in the room that the Pataki's were inferior sub humans.

Mrs. Wickerson and her son Brian nodded reverentially in agreement. The threat of Mr. Grant liquidating one of Mr. Wickerson's companies still hung over their heads.

"Right," said Olga, furtively glancing away.

The Butler dressed in white livery and a black bow tie strolled out from the kitchen when he heard the bell. He opened the door, greeting them in a dreadfully monotone voice.

"Welcome Sir, Madam, and Misses, to the Grant Manor, may I please take you're coats," he said, gesturing them inside the vestibule.

"Sure, thanks! How'ya doin, Willie?" Bob said burly, smacking the man hard in the back.

"It's Wilcox, sir-"

"Hey, why don't you get me a glass of that fancy French wine you served last time?"

"B, you know I can't be around that stuff," Miriam said, wiping at the beads of sweat forming on her brow.

"What, nobody said I couldn't drink!"

"I do believe we have some Cabernet Sauvignon in the wine cooler, Mr. Pataki," said Wilcox dutifully.

"Great, I'll have some of that."

"Not so fast Butler-Boy, my friend and I will have some as well. And get us a bottle too," Helga said, pulling on the man's curtails before he could walk off. Lila looked questioningly at Helga, not having planned on spending the night drinking.

Mr. Wilcox eyed Helga speculatively, and then at her father.

Bob grunted, ignoring the nervous mutterings of his wife. "Sure, why not. But leave the bottle; I won't have the girl embarrassing me."

Helga smiled, nudging her friend. "See, told you he doesn't give a crap about me," she whispered underneath her breath.

Someone out there was obviously toying with him. Kyle couldn't stop gaping at the tall blonde, teetering inside the dining room in her stilettos. She was wearing a sparkly silver dress that was way too short for his liking, and wore her hair out, cascading over the breadth of her shoulders.

The first time he met her was two years ago. His immediate thought was that she was too pale and rawboned. He never met such a bony girl. At the time, her body had yet developed past its gamine beginnings. She sneered a lot, and called him names like Daddy Warbucks. By the end of their first meeting he was outright annoyed by her.

But then one day, he found her sitting on the leather settee of his pent house apartment. Apparently Olga had bombarded her into spending the night, Helga later clarified. After scribbling for hours in her diary, she ate all his food and proceeded to bug him endlessly, criticizing everything from his foppish appearance to his large nose. It had been ninety-five degrees that day, he was hot and stressed from work and the expectations of his family, the sight of her derisive grin had provoked him.

But none of those explanations were enough to make up for what he did later on. After she stalked off, he followed her and cornered her in the library. She hadn't pushed him away, but still, it was wrong and he knew that. It's been nothing but a whirlwind ever since. That was the best word to describe Helga, a whirlwind.

"Kyle, do you mind letting go of me?" Olga raised her arm where Kyle was clutching tightly at her wrist.

"Sorry, hunny. I'm just a bit nervous." Kyle said, releasing her wrist. He tried not to glimpse at Helga smirkingly taking the seat in front of him.

"You shouldn't worry so much. I'm sure our families will get along." Olga intertwined their fingers together, giving him a reassuring smile.

After everyone had taken their seats, more liveried men strolled out the kitchen, carrying silver trays of food in their upraised palms.

The Pataki's and their freckled-faced guest wearily eyed their plates, not used to such foreign delicacies. Eventually, Helga lifted up the wrong fork and began stabbing at her Colcannon. Kyle deftly hid his smile. Wait until Wilcox serves the Haggis. His father's family originated from Scotland, so Kyle basically grew up on the food.

The discourse was very brief, mostly because nobody could speak with Bob chomping voraciously in the background. With everybody staring disbelieving down the table at Bob, Kyle took the modicum of distraction to fully drink in Helga's appearance.

The blonde ignored him mostly, choosing to devour the food in front of her. It seemed she got used to the taste, because of the delighted sigh that fell from her lips with each forkful. Then, in one heated moment, her eyes met his as she slowly pulled the fork out.

Kyle narrowed his eyes warningly, and shot a furtive glance to his wife. Olga was busy immersing herself in a conversation with Mrs. Wickerson, talking about her recent trip to Hounslow, London. Kyle had taken her there on a business trip.

Helga laughed softly, whispering something to her friend. Lila nodded, her eyes flitting towards him for a quick second. Kyle assimilated uneasiness in her expression, like she was afraid of him. He wasn't all that surprised. He never felt safe knowing that another person knew about their relationship, but Helga swore that Lila could keep a secret.

"You might want to take it easy with the wine. What is that, you're third glass?" Kyle said, gesturing toward the glass of wine in Lila's hand. She seized up, ducking her head towards the table-cloth.

Helga abruptly went cold. Kyle blinked, bewildered by her change in demeanor.

"Don't talk to her," said Helga, a cantankerous mien on her face. She then turned to her friend, eyes never leaving his. "Ignore him, Lila, what does he know about being responsible anyway."

"It was just a suggestion, Helga," Kyle said, glowering.

"Well, keep your suggestions, Daddy Warbucks."

By the time the footmen served the fourth course, Helga's mood had shifted considerably. She could be so mercurial sometimes. Having doffed her shoes underneath the table, she ran her stocking clad feet along the length of his leg. She did all this while eating forkfuls of her Strawberry Savarin, coyly gazing at him beneath her dark lashes. Suddenly he wished he hadn't requested that the chef make the french dessert. His heart constricted as he surreptitiously watched her lift a strawberry to her lips, perversely taking her time chewing it.

How was it that nobody else saw this but him? He surveyed the other occupants in the room. Brian, the boy who looked about Helga's age was staring attentively at Lila. Once in a while Lila's eyes would meet his, but she'd quickly avert them, a sour look marring her face.

Eventually, Brian's attention diverted to Helga, who was still perversely eating her strawberries. Helga was oblivious to him, but Kyle saw the way his eyes licentiously took her in. He didn't like it one bit.

Helga arched a brow at Kyle's stiff posture. He pointed discretely to his Rolex watch, and then jerked his head towards the exit.

Shaking her head, Helga upended the flute into her mouth, and licked the vestiges of wine off her lips. She ignored Kyle's disappointed frown, in favor of scavenging the table for more wine. She then looked across the table, where Miriam had discreetly moved the wine bottle as far away from Helga's side as possible. Sigh, of all the days for Miriam to finally start noticing her.

Having finished all her food, she had nowhere else to look but straight ahead into Kyle's pleading, titillating gaze. The alcohol was beginning to distort her sensibilities. What's one more time? She thought, weighing her options.

Through the hazy fog, she began to see some of the appealing aspects of the man in front of her. Despite his foppish demeanor, he was broad-shouldered and held a staggering height. He was a little soft around the middle, but sinewy everywhere else, even his hands looked strong. In some distant ways, he made her think of Arnold ten years from now, although he really didn't look anything like him. Except the blond wayward hair was spot on, as well as those startling, verdurous green eyes. Maybe it was the similarities that brought her to Kyle, or maybe because with Kyle dominating every aspect of her mind, there was no way she could think about Arnold.

Helga barely comprehended Lila saying something about getting a text message, and watched as the girl traipsed passed the threshold and out of sight.

"Where's the bathroom?" Helga said dazedly, her head spinning as she stood up from the table. Kyle stuck out an arm, as if he wanted to catch her.

Mrs. Grant pursed her lips as if she ate something repulsive. "Down the hall to your left…"

Smiling insincerely, Helga crossed the room to the threshold. Before turning the corner, she pinned Kyle with a pointed gaze, letting him know that it was okay to follow.

Midway down the hall, Helga gasped as a strong set of arms enveloped her from behind.

"Is life always just a game to you?" Kyle brushed her hair to the side, and trailed kisses up and down her neck.

"I should ask you the same thing," Helga said, scowling at his slovenly display of affection. Kyle always disregarded any rules she laid out before him, which was to not touch her in any romantic way except for kissing and the other thing...

"Get off me," she said, trying to disentangle herself from his tenacious grip.

"That's not what you want." Kyle said, yanking her around. He cradled her face between his palms, "Nobody forced you to come, but you showed up anyway."

"You think you know everything," Helga said, running her hands up his arms. "But you-"

Kyle swept her up in a kiss, the rest of her words melting in the back of her mind.

Helga felt her back hit the wall. She couldn't breathe, all of her senses narrowed down to the warm body pressed against her.

"I care about you, Helga. So much, you don't even know." Kyle said, pulling away. His eyes bore into hers, as if he were waiting for a response.

Helga frowned up at him, bemused. After a few beats, a giggle tore out her throat, and then she was laughing cathartically. Wiping tears from her eyes, she said, "The only thing you care about is going to bed with me. So are we going to do this or not?"

* * *

**To: Lila**

**I'm truly gobsmacked. How is it that you're not taken?**

**-Jason**

Lila swooned, pressing her cell phone to her heart. She was sitting in the den, having spent almost an hour there texting Jason back and forth.

**To: Jason**

**I haven't really been looking. I'm kind of shaky about relationships, my last one was a disaster. He ended up leaving me for another girl.**

**-Lila**

**To: Lila**

**Well, anybody that could give a girl like you up, must be crazy.**

**-Jason**

**To: Jason**

**So I take it that you like my pictures?**

**-Lila**

**To: Lila**

**Like them? I'm enthralled by them. Do you think you could send more?**

**-Jason**

"Lila, there you are. I have looked all over for you."

Lila looked up, her face fell the moment she saw that it was Brian Wickerson, her ex-boyfriend.

Brian was the epitome of a pompous ass. Everything about him exuded arrogance, from his supercilious grin, to the jaunty swing in his step. He was sharp-eyed and pigeon-chested, with sleek brown hair that was as dark as a wenge tree.

Lila wouldn't call him aesthetically handsome, but he was very clean and well put together. His face was flawless. Normally most teens had a blemish or two, but his was clear, and smooth like a baby's bottom. People usually looked oddly at her when she stated these facts. It didn't matter if a boy was handsome and lean. Her grandmother had always told her that cleanliness was next to godliness, and it was important to Lila that boys possessed this specific trait.

"_You_ were looking for me?" Lila snorted, oddly sounding like Helga for a moment. She blinked; maybe the girl was rubbing off on her.

Brian leaned against the door frame, staring appreciatively at the beautiful girl sitting on the chaise lounge. Why did I break up with her again? He thought, racking his brain. "Why is that such a surprise to you? You and I have history together. Surely, it's not a crime to see how my ex is doing?"

"No, it's not a crime, but I assumed you were too busy sleeping with Rhonda," Lila said audaciously, applauding herself for being so bold. It must have been all the wine she consumed. She had been a neurotic mess since the moment she stepped into the Grant's home and found out that Brian and his family had attended the dinner as well. She supposed it made sense, the Wickerson's were a very affluent family.

"Look about that, I never really got the chance to apologize for my behavior back then. It was wrong of me to have cheated on you, especially with someone as shoal as Rhonda." Brian said ambling further inside the room. He took a seat beside her on the chaise lounge; although there was sincerity in his voice, he looked unbridled with lust.

"It _was_ wrong. I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to forgive you," Lila said, shying away from his gaze. Even to this day, Brian's deception still broke her heart. She knew why he cheated, he had wanted more from her then just chaste kisses and holding hands, but she hadn't trusted him enough to ever let it get that far. It was a good thing she waited.

Brian nodded in acceptance, "I don't expect you too."

"Well, if that's all you wanted to say..." Lila said, wondering when he planned on leaving. She wanted to get back to her conversation with Jason.

"Getting rid of me so soon?" Brian said, grinning lecherously. "I wanted to share a drink with you. It's been such a long time since we last talked."

Before Lila could say anything he swiftly left the chaise, to procure for them a bottle of Bollinger and two flutes from the glass cabinet. After decanting the sparkling liquid, he sauntered back over to the girl, handing her one of the flutes.

"Cheers!" Brian said, clinking his glass with hers.

"Cheers," Lila replied meekly. She took a few nimble sips of her champagne, before downing the rest.

"More?" He said, reaching for the bottle.

Lila nodded, sluggishly holding out her glass.

A few minutes passed as they drank in silence.

"You look edible by the way, is that a new dress?" Brian asked, a prurient glint in his eye.

"Yes, Helga bought it for me," Lila said, an embarrassed flush rising up her cheeks. Helga, tenacious as always, ended up buying the black gown for Lila, even though she told her not too.

"What are you doing?" Lila flinched away as Brian scooted closer to her on the chaise.

"I love you're hair like this, you should wear it out more often." He said salaciously, smoothing a hand down her auburn tresses.

She squeaked when he clasped the ends of her hair, drawing her into a crushing kiss.

"Ow!" Brian swore, pushing away. He nursed his lip, looking livid when he saw that there was blood on his hand.

"You...you bit me!"

"I said I'm not ready to forgive you, Brian. Which part didn't you get?" Lila asked scathingly. She felt completely hoodwinked. How could she have been so stupid letting her guard down?

"You'll pay for that, Sawyer," He said in an apoplectic voice, nostrils flaring.

All of sudden her phone began to vibrate on the coffee table where she left it. Before she could retrieve it, Brian seized it from the table, smirking as he stood up from the chaise.

"Give it back Brian," Lila stood up as well, feeling an upsurge of panic. What if he read her texts from Jason?

Seeing the alarm in her eyes, Brian glimpsed curiously at the phone in his hand. "I wonder what Little Miss Perfect has to hide," he said, flipping open the cover with a sphinx-like grin.

Lila shamefully watched the myriad of expressions cross his face as he scrolled through her phone.

"My, my, not so perfect after all," he said, chuckling to himself, "what's all this now?"

He showed her the last picture she sent to Jason, dark eyes glinting with amusement.

Lila gritted her teeth in silence. Why on earth didn't I delete those pictures? She thought angrily to herself.

"I tell you, this Jason of yours is one lucky guy," Brian said with a low whistle, scrolling through her phone again.

"Okay, you've had your laughs. Now can I get my phone back?" Lila held out her hand, unshed tears blooming in her eyes.

"Okay, I'll give it back. But you have to do me a favor first."

"If you want me to have sex with you-"

"I'm not that evil," Brian snapped, all traces of amusement wiped from his face.

Lila blinked, staring dubiously at him. "Fine, what do you want then?"

"Jason wants another picture. So let's give him one. Climb up on that table."

* * *

Helga toed her shoes back on, studiously avoiding the man sprawled on the bed beside her. After sneaking away from the party, Kyle had led Helga upstairs to his childhood bedroom. It was just as opulent as the rest of the manor, with parquet floorboards, ivory-white walls and a large canopy bed.

"So..., anything interesting happened in school today?" Kyle asked, for lack of anything better to say. Now that the mood had cooled down some, it left them in a state of awkward silence.

Helga snorted as she fastened the Cartier bracelet that he bought her. It was an old garland style, made of platinum and diamonds. "Are we really going to talk about school?"

"What's so wrong with that?" Kyle said, propping his head in his hand. He reached out to splay his fingers against the expanse of her back, trailing his fingers up and down her spine.

"Pillow talk is for oblivious wives, and paid whores. Since I'm neither one of them, I abstain from such nonsense," said Helga, "and what did I say about touching me romantically?"

Kyle paused his caressing, "Sorry. Look, I just want to know how you're doing. Must you be so cantankerous?"

"Fine, if you really want to know, school sucked big time. I was hung over most of the morning, and then I found out that I might not graduate with Lila this year." Helga ran a hand down her arm, staring impassively out the window. It was now well into the night; a splattering of stars interspersed among the dark, opaque sky.

"I could get father to pull some strings. He's got friends almost everywhere."

Helga rolled her eyes, "I'd rather do this on my own. Besides, wouldn't he get suspicious?"

"I thought stuff like that didn't concern you," Kyle asked with a wry grin.

"It doesn't, but if anyone ever were to find out about us, I'd rather it be in the safety of my dorm room."

"Still can't believe you're going off to college next year," Kyle said, picking at a thread on the duvet. He peered at the blonde underneath his bangs, gearing up for his next question. "Have you talked to that boy, Arnold lately?"

Helga stiffened, "No, I haven't..."

"His number's in your phone though, you had to have talked to him."

"You're looking in my phone now? What do you think this is, Kyle?" Helga lunged off the bed, staring daggers at the blond. "Did you think I was you're girlfriend? If you did, then you're clearly mistaken."

Kyle slid off the bed, shrugging his shirt back on. "It's just common courtesy to let someone know these things."

"I don't have to tell you anything!" Helga snatched her Michael Kors bag off the end table, and thunderously fled the room.

"Helga, stop." Kyle said running up behind her.

She smacked his hand away, "Get your act together, Kyle. I'm nothing like Olga, I won't become sub-servant to you."

"I know that. It's what I love and hate about you."

Helga skidded to a halt, and turned around to cross the distance between them. She looked murderous. "That's another thing. Whatever this is between us, it's not love. So stop calling it that."

"Fine, Helga," Kyle said begrudgingly, raising his hands in defeat. "If that's what you want."

* * *

**Author's Note**: How was that? I know it crosses a few lines, especially since they are seventeen, but trust me there's a lesson learned at the end of this story. I don't encourage Sexting or any of that, but I wanted to write about something real.


End file.
